Hope Springs Eternal
by langilla
Summary: Supernatural AU: Balthazar would be the best friend anyone could ever have if he would stop abusing drugs and alcohol, Castiel doesn't understand much other than he's in love with Dean (and doesn't really get that either), Dean is responsible? (it sucks to try to be everyone's dad), Sam is a recovering drug addict, and Gabe is tired of trying to write & direct "reality" tv.
1. Sam & Gabe love exposition

Sam slowed his run to a slight jog as he approached the familiar beach house. It had been eight years since Balthazar's surprisingly classy graduation party, but something about the simple white house seemed to stand out. As he reached for the front door knob, an image of Balthazar's face squished between couch cushions mumbling something about using the back door popped into his head. While that could have easily been some sort of sexual innuendo, it couldn't hurt to go around back. It turned out to be the right decision. Once moving around the side of the house, you could see far out into the atlantic ocean. The blues and greens mixed together, occasionally broken up by the white crested waves. He walked to the end of the wrap around porch and felt the salty wind brush past his face and through his hair. There were some good things about this island.

Sam moved to the sliding glass door hoping that Balthazar hadn't lied about peace, quiet and decent coffee. Upon opening the door he realized that it had in fact been a falsehood. While he could smell something delicious, someone else had already arrived and was blasting Madonna's "Like a Prayer". He moved through the simple living room to see the one and only Gabriel Novak singing and dancing in the middle of the kitchen holding a silver mixing bowl.

Golden eyes met hazel and with one last shake of his butt, Gabriel turned off the music blasting through the house.

"Hey Sam-a-ramekin! Did you enjoy your morning run?" Gabriel said as his eyes started looking up and down Sam's sweaty body.

Sam raised an eyebrow "Sam-a-ramekin? Is that really the best you can do?"

"It's not my fault you're standing right next to the ramekins I need for the sufflees!" Gabriel said with a smile, that a younger Sam would have found infectious.

Instead Sam snorted and turned to look in the cabinet closest to his head to look for the ramekins.

"Isn't it a little early for souffle?"

"Never! I almost decided on chocolate souffles and then decided _thatˆ_ would be too decadent for breakfast."

Sam grabbed the ramekins and turned to face Gabriel still looking placed the silver mixing bowl on the table and raised his hands.

"Hey no one is forcing you to eat them. Go somewhere else for breakfast then."

"I could go home. Bobby makes great pancakes"

"Did I end up in some sort of weird time warp? You're sounding just like a certain 13 year old I used to know. He was about this tall" Gabe hold his hand up to his own shoulder "thought his brother was some sort of hero, couldn't keep his nose out of a single book?"

"I'm just saying souffles never have been and never will be an appropriate breakfast food."

"He seems to be even whinier than I remember, but luckily for you small child, I am not making you souffles, but instead cinnamon buns."

"So that was just a cover up for the bad nickname!" Sam took his victory over the other man with a little too much pride.

"You caught me Little Man Sam. I was lying to you from the start. So are you staying for my delicious pastries or heading back to Bobby's?"

"I suppose I could stay"

"No one can say no to my tasty treats" Gabriel punctuated his exclamation with a wink. "You do seem awfully tired. Everything ok?"

Sam sunk onto a stool across the kitchen counter from Gabriel. "Let's just say I had a rude awakening last night. What about you? Your nicknames this morning lack their usual shine."

"My best friend got drunk and disappeared in the middle of the night. I was hoping he would have turned up here."

"He's probably going to be the one enjoying Bobby's pancakes this morning. I thought that he didn't get like that any more?"

"Hammered to the point of being belligerently truthful? He's usually better around Cassie, but last night instead of an housewarming party we had a good old fashioned drunk Cassie pity party. Everyone was required to participate. I'm impressed he made it all the way to Bobby's."

"What the hell happened last night?"

"Clearly your big brother has left you out of the loop. Cassie just so happened to land an english teacher job at the alma mater so Bal and I agreed to help him move in. Unfortunately we arrived too late to stop our dearest Cassie from renewing his declarations of affection to your bro. He of course reacted with a rather forceful rejection as one would if you have spoken in eight years."

"They were still dating when Cas left for college. They didn't break up until that summer."

"This is where Bal's part of the story comes in because while he will always take Cassie's side he is the last person whose shoulder I would suggest crying on while intoxicated. The truth just came spilling out." Gabriel paused, made a coughing noise and launched into an exaggerated British accent " _Cassie darling. I love you but you fucked up. You fuckn' run every fuckin time things get tough. You are the biggest fuckin coward I know. Dean would have to be a bigger fuckin idiot than I could have ever fuckin imagined to take you back. You fuckin abandoned him just like his fuckin father. Everyone he loves fuckin leaves him. You think he would take a chance with you again, you need to fuckin think again._ And then he stormed out."

"That would explain why he showed up banging on the door at 2 AM with half a bottle a whisky. He offered it to Bobby in exchange for a night on the couch. And" Sam makes a noise as if he is clearing his throat and attempts his own Balthazar impression " _Sammy, Dean I am so fuckin happy-"_

"Is that supposed to be Balthazar because that is a terrible impression."

"Hey! It was not worse than yours"

"You made him sound Australian!"

"Yours was totally Irish!"

"No way! I am a master of accents." Gabriel declared with a flourish of his arm.

"Anyways. Balthazar told Dean that he could become Dean's new best friend in exchange for more whiskey and keeping his head out of his own ass. When asked about his own best friends he complained with one of them trying to cut him off- congratulations I did not bet on you being the responsible one"

"Just because I work in reality television doesn't mean I want my life to actually look like that"

"And his other one was horrible at relationships, apologies and romance. Dean should just forget all the Novak brothers because they are all going to hell, but hey you and I could still make it to heaven, maybe. We managed to drag him to the couch to pass out,"

"For the record if Bal isn't getting dragged to hell neither am I."

"So I won't get to see either one of you in heaven. Such a shame." Sam shook his head with a small grin. "And you didn't actually explain this whole not speaking for eight years. By my count it's seven.

"What you and I didn't know is that my dearest baby brother decided breaking up with Dean was too hard and it would be better to just NEVER contact him again. Which he ended up changing his mind on two days ago."

"Dean never mentioned that"

"Well, hope springs eternal."


	2. Balthazar doesn't make breakfast

Balthazar woke up on a much more comfortable couch than Castiel had. He too had a headache, but it certainly wasn't his first hangover and definitely wouldn't be his last. He had woken up to the sounds of footsteps trying to sneak past him.

"Sam why are you up so goddamn early and where are you sneaking off to? "

"I'm going for a run and it's already 7:30." Sam was whispering to the point that Balthazar could barely hear him.

"Which requires you to sneak out of the house?"

"If I don't want Dean to be a total mother hen it does."

"Avoiding Dean huh? Go to my place, it should be quiet and fully stocked, enjoy a Dean free morning."

Balthazar then rolled over determined to fall asleep. 7:30 would never be a reasonable hour after a night of drinking. He heard the door close and was ready to be alone and asleep. Not far behind the couch he heard a gruff voice.

"Boy, if you're going to sleep on the couch you're going to get up and help me with breakfast."

"Old man, I gave you my whisky, give me two more hours." Balthazar grumbled and tried to bury his head deeper into the couch cushion.

"I'm not an old man and I expected you to have better taste in whiskey."

"Cassie bought it, and if I'm a boy you are most certainly an old man." Surprisingly enough Balthazar was feeling rather childish. There was something about being at Bobby's. Something about the gentle teasing.

"Alright, idjit, do you want pancakes or not?"

"Do I have to get up?"

"Do I seriously look like your servant?" Balthazar didn't have to look up from his position on the couch to tell that Bobby was rolling his eyes.

"My father's servants were always much better dressed."

"I'll take that as an I would rather starve."

"Fine, but only because I love your pancakes and not because I'm too hungover to find food on my own."

Balthazar slowly removed himself from the couch. He could see Bobby in the kitchen getting supplies out of the pantry. Balthazar still wasn't used to seeing Bobby in a wheelchair, it looked awkward in the pantry, Bobby had never splurged to get the kitchen redone. He had decided to save the money for Sam and Dean's college because who needs a handicap accessible kitchen, that's just a wasteful extravagance. Balthazar smiled a little to himself Bobby would always choose the hard way.

"Balthazar, stop staring and get in here to help with the pancakes."

"Yes Sir" Balthazar gave a little salute and moved into the kitchen.

"Can you get the big mixing bowl out of the upper right cupboard. Now that Dean and Sam's home they keep putting dishes back in the top shelf."

Balthazar opened the top right cupboard and pulled out the large metal mixing bowl"You should call Sheriff Mills for this kind of emergency, I'm sure she's good at cooking with heat." He placed the bowl down on the table by the supplies Bobby had pulled out

"Don't make me smack you. You're talkin' about an upstanding lady."

Balthazar raised his hands in front of himself defensively. "Hey, I'm not talking about hitting and quitting"

"Balthazar" Bobby's voice had a slight growl to it.

"I think you would make quite the pair and she's single now."

"Her husband died." Bobby mumbled as he started to mix the dry ingredients.

"And so did your wife it's perfect."

"I might be in a wheelchair, but I could still kick your ass, bean poll, now get the wet ingredients out of the fridge."

Balthazar moved over to the fridge and opened it grabbing the eggs, butter and milk.

"Fine don't take my advice. I don't know why people don't listen to me about these things more." Balthazar paused for a second because of course he knew. He wondered how much Bobby actually knew.

"Should I take out the bacon too?"

"Don't be an idjit, of course we need the bacon. Put the frying pan on the stove with some butter. You do know how to cook bacon. Don't cha?"

"I may be spoiled, but I am in fact an excellent cook." Balthazar was in fact not nearly as good at cooking as he made it sound, but he could manage this. It was just melting some butter in a frying pan. It was easy.

"You know the last time you made me pancakes, you had just bailed me out of jail. I always thought it was a weird sort of punishment." Balthazar didn't know why he brought it up. He didn't care about the past.

"You did go to jail."

"That part made sense, but not the pancakes." The whole past twenty four hours just felt so nostalgic, like some weird ass reverse 13 going on 30. Was he 17 or 28? No wonder he never visited.

"I'd already promised Sam and Dean. Did you think I made those pancakes for a common criminal?" Bobby was teasing him. Trying to make a joke out of all of it.

"I am far from common." Balthazar tried to be light and breezy, but knew it sounded rather dower.

Then all of the sudden he could hear footsteps pounding down the stairs.

"Bobby, what's going on? It's not like you to burn the butter." Dean's voice carried into the kitchen had an edge of concern.

Balthazar looked at the pan, the butter was all brown. It had burned before he had even had a chance to put the bacon in. Dean rounded the corner into the kitchen.

"Oh it was you Balthy." Dean was clearly trying to sound cheerful although Balthazar doubted it's authenticity.

"I hate to inform you but we aren't 15 anymore Deanie" Balthazar plastered on the largest fakest smile he could manage.

"Alright, alright. I get it. Let me take over bacon duty." Dean moved over to take the frying pan and Balthazar let him.

"Good cooking is beneath me anyways." Balthazar moved and sat a across the table from Bobby who had just finished mixing the batter."

"Ok, princess." Dean muttered, but now he sounded slightly more comfortable from when he first woke up to discover Balthazar still in Bobby's home.

"I'm glad you recognize my superior rank dear peasant." Balthazar had a smug look on his face, as if he really did find himself magnificent.

"Balthazar, stop trying to charm Dean while, he's making the bacon. Dean hurry up so I can cook these damn pancakes."

"I had to deal with some burnt butter first, blame that sleazeball."

"I resent going from princess to sleazeball. I don't think I earned such a demotion." Balthazar loced to act like he was offended, it created a fun banter and stopped people from knowing when he was actually upset.

"Just don't flirt with me it's weird."

"It's not flirting it's teasing. You are my new best friend after all." Balthazar put on one of his more charming grins.

"Bobby, the bacon's done you can start on the pancakes. We are not best friends." Dean took a plate of bacon from the counter and placed it on the table, and sat down.

"Don't you want to ask me."

"Ask you what?" Dean looked away and feigned ignorance.

"What happened between me and Cassie that cause such a falling out." Balthazar's grin grew. Riling up Dean was too easy.

"You're being overdramatic." For as nonchalant Dean sounded he was having trouble looking Balthazar in the eyes.

"Well it all started with what happened between you and Castiel in the supermarket parking lot. I would love to hear your side of it." Balthazar leaned across the table.

Dean looked around the kitchen as if he was trying to find the fastest way out of the room. Balthazar assumed he probably was.

"Hey Bobby, have you seen Sam this morning? It's already 8."

"You know Dean I often sleep well past 9, don't worry so much."

"Bobby?" Dean continued to act as if Balthazar was not sitting directly across from him.

"Haven't seen him."

"I'll go check on him. He wouldn't want to miss out on pancakes." Dean started to get up from the table.

"Just let the kid sleep Dean. He needs it. Have pancakes while their hot." Bobby was clearly trying to get Dean to stay in the kitchen.

"I'm just going to check. I won't wake him." Dean got up from the table walked through the living room and headed up the stairs.

Bobby wheeled over to the table with a tray of pancakes in his lap. He put them on the table and looked at Balthazar. They both just sat there waiting. Sam wasn't going to be found in his bed. Then they heard it. A door upstairs slamming. Quiet. Another door slamming and then footsteps coming down the stairs.

Dean came into the kitchen fully dressed in jeans and a red plaid shirt.

"Sam isn't in his bed. He isn't in the house." Deans face was cold and serious.

"More pancakes for us." Balthazar put on a cheery voice.

"Do either of you know where he is?" Dean glared at both of them. As if they were keeping him from finding Sam.

"He probably went for a run. You know how into exercise he is." Bobby used a calm voice.

"Bobby, you know he shouldn't leave without telling us." Dean started to sound angry.

"He isn't on house arrest anymore you know."

"He could be anywhere Bobby. This is serious."Dean sounded angry and panicked.

"Have some breakfast and then you can look for him. If you go after him angry you're just going to fight."

"Yeah, Dean stop being such a mother hen. Enjoy a morning without worry."

"Fuck you Balthazar." Dean turned and left out the front door.

"Well I think that went well." Balthazar smiled at Bobby.

"Do you know where Sam went this morning?" Bobby sounded suspicious.

"Don't you think I would've told Dean if I did?"

"No."

"Fine. I'll go tell Sam to call Dean after breakfast."

"Wait until after lunch." Bobby smiled at Balthazar.

They both put pancakes on their plates and began eating. It would be best to just enjoy their pancakes in silence.


	3. Castiel, Alone

Castiel had a killer headache and honestly the rest of his body didn't feel that great either. He opened his eyes slowly and discovered he was lying on his couch. A couch he once described as "modern, practical and affordable" and which Gabriel had described as "hard as an old man's cock on viagra". Gabriel had been right. Castiel also realized that the room was full of boxes and newspaper everywhere, which was odd, he was very tidy. Then it hit him, he moved. He moved home, he moved to a tiny island off the coast of New England. His plan was perfect, until it wasn't. He groaned and decided it was time to get off the couch. He instead rolled off the couch and with a thud hit the floor. He hoped Balthazar would have some magical hangover cure.

Balthazar, however, was not passed out in the living room, neither was Gabriel. They were also not in the kitchen, or his bedroom, or the guest bedroom. Those assholes had gotten him drunk and abandoned him. It was obvious his current state was their fault, he would never intentionally get this drunk. Except, after moving yesterday, Balthazar convinced him a house wasn't complete if it wasn't stocked and Gabriel wanted a "classy" champagne toast and then Castiel had run into Dean AGAIN in the parking lot. After which Castiel proceeded to buy half the liquor store. So maybe it wasn't COMPLETELY his brother's and best friend's fault he wanted to vomit and went around his house closing every curtain.

Castiel was left with one decision to make, sleep on his bed which was still without sheets and who knew which box those were in, sleep on the couch, or look for the people who left him behind. He decided the shower/get dressed/get brunch/manhunt was the most efficient way to spend his day and then he wouldn't have to make, a probably burnt, breakfast with food he didn't have.

Castiel went into the bathroom across the hall from his bedroom. There was no shower curtain and no bath mat on the floor. Maybe moving had been a bad idea. It seemed like a great idea at the time. Get a job at your old high school, reignite your highschool romance and live happily ever after. It was something out of a $5.99 romance novel. Except it wasn't a romance novel. It was being hungover, unable to shower unless he wanted to risk water damage (he did not), and being completely alone. It was bullshit.

It was also time to find his cellphone, find his brother, find his best friend and hopefully find some coffee and food along the way. First clothes, there had to be a box labeled clothes hiding around here somewhere. He found his way back into the bedroom. He had been clever enough to label these boxes clothes. Perfect! He opened the first one and took out a white short sleeved button down, wrinkled from its time in the box, it would do. He continued to dig through the box, why was it all shirts?

The little practical voice in his head reminded him it was the best way to stay organized both during packing and unpacking. Practical Castiel did not account for not unpacking the night before. Practical Castiel was clearly not as smart as he had believed. Luckily the pants box was not far away. Blue plaid boxer, on top. Success! A pair of jeans next, he was saved. The cell phone would be next and probably hidden under the couch cushions. He had tried to give Dean his number, which means he definitely slept with the phone.

He reached his hand under the couch and felt something hard. He pulled it out. It being a bottle of champaign. Which, whatever, he could worry about stains and recycling later. He tried again this time finding his phone. It was fortunate that his phone had half power left, it was unfortunate that his house was apparently a dead zone. Fuck this island. It seemed completely unfair that he was clever enough and practical enough to separate pants and shirts while packing, but too stupid to realize this "great life change" was based in pure fantasy.

It was too late now and his head hurt too much. Time to find his helmet, the keys to his Vespa and make his way to the Bluebell Dinner. The coffee always tasted a little burnt, but Castiel heard that Benny was back and could make a killer omelette.


End file.
